


caffeine

by oceanism



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians & Related Fandoms - All Media Types, Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, M/M, solangelo
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-13
Updated: 2015-04-13
Packaged: 2018-03-22 17:29:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,895
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3737413
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceanism/pseuds/oceanism
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Praise the Lord for the existence of 8 AM classes and coffee.</p>
            </blockquote>





	caffeine

**Author's Note:**

> hi! i haven't written a thing in a long time! it's really short and my skills are rusty but i'm really proud that i was able to churn something out. can you tell from the title that i had no idea what to name this? i was a millimeter away from naming it _untitled_. i'm not even exaggerating. anyway, this was requested by an anon on tumblr. you can find the original post [here](http://faizhang.tumblr.com/post/116333069155/can-you-write-something-where-nico-and-will-attend)!

He was slouching. His head rested on one of his hands and his eyes were half-closed. This was a regular position to find him in. Will had the entire routine mapped out in his head: every Wednesday morning, the boy would walk in and take his seat, on which he would proceed to listen to the entire lecture while on the verge of sleep.

Will often found himself wondering why he had even signed up for an 8 AM class in the first place.

It was none of his business, but he wondered about the boy a lot. He saw him at least once a week, yet he didn’t even have a name to match the face. He knew that he could find out if he made an effort, but the thought of doing so through any other way that wasn’t directly asking him felt creepy, so he did not. Instead, he observed from afar. Which was still creepy, but whatever.

Will never gleaned much; nothing of stone hard, factual substance (like a name or an age), at least, but he wouldn’t go so far as to call the contents of his list of information mere trivialities. He glanced at the stranger, noting the outfit that he was wearing. Dark, as always. He obviously possessed an abundance of dark clothing. His hair was dark, too, and so were his eyes, and they were made even darker against his skin, which looked like it had never been kissed by the sun.  A pair of bulky headphones hung around his neck. He never smiled, and he wasn’t smiling now. (Maybe that was only because the boy was always half-asleep whenever he was in Will’s line of sight, but somehow, he doubted it.) It all made for a very shadowy vibe, which suited him, actually.

Despite the fact that he looked like he wanted to drop dead, he knew the classroom material. The professor had a habit of asking the people who needed assistance to stay behind after class, but the guy always went out the door after the lecture. Not to mention the times that Will caught him reacting to the professor’s bad jokes, which probably meant that he understood them. Most of the time, it was a tiny quirk of the lips, or a raising of the brows, or a roll of the eyes. It was never an actual laugh, nor was it ever a full-fledged smile. But despite this, watching the flickers of amusement play out on his features was fascinating.

The boy shifted, transferring his chin from the heel of his right palm to the heel of his left. He released a yawn.

Will glanced at the two Starbucks containers on his (literal; not the one on his laptop) desktop.

The bags below the boy’s eyes were darker, and his hair was even more unkempt than usual.

His fingers wrapped themselves around one of the cups.

_Should I…?_

The boy yawned.

Will stood up and walked over, coffee in his hand and something like nervousness in his stomach. Why was he even so nervous? This was nothing to get nervous about. _Get a grip,_ he told himself. _You’re going to be a doctor one day._

As he stood over him, he wondered if it was too late to turn back. He hadn’t been noticed yet anyway; the guy was too tired to pay attention, it seemed. But then, almost involuntarily, his lips parted and out came a small noise that had probably been a greeting in its conception.

The boy made a face. Will knew that face. It was the _why-the-hell-are-you-talking-to-me_ face.

This was kind of a bad idea, but he was nothing if not stubborn. Besides, he was already here, wasn’t he?

“Hey.” He cleared his throat, before extending the Starbucks container. “I brought you this.”

Whatever the other had been expecting, it had not been this. Will saw the brief surprise on his face, in the slight widening of his eyes, before it was replaced by an emotion that looked a lot like suspicion.

“Why? Is that empty and you’re trying to troll me? Or is that poisoned?” He raised his eyebrows.

Will rolled his eyes. “It’s called being a nice and helpful person. Just take it.”  
He watched as the guy seemed to suffer from an inner dilemma. His gaze flickered from the coffee, to the floor, to the ceiling, and finally, to meet Will’s own.

“Okay,” he finally said, sounding rather pained, as he took the plastic cup with both hands. He treated it carefully, like it was a fragile thing or a precious commodity. When he tipped his head back and drank, he closed his eyes, and for some reason, Will had to look away. After the first sip, he seemed more awake. “...Thanks. You really didn’t have to, though.”

Will nodded. “I mean, I see you every day and you always seem so tired. So, uh, I grabbed an extra one for you on the way here. It’s no big deal.”

He nodded as well, before glancing down at the coffee. Something made him narrow his eyes. He looked up again and glared at Will. “Death boy, really?”

 _Oops._ “I didn’t know your name, okay?” _Still don’t._ Will’s lips threatened to widen into a smirk—personally, he thought the nickname was very clever—but he had more self-control than that.

The boy sighed. “I can’t be too mad at you because you bought me coffee. Don’t call me that.”

“Well, what should I call you, then?”

_Smooth. Holy cow, Will Solace, you’re so smooth. Give yourself a pat on the back!_

Ah. He was such a loser.

“…Nico, Nico di Angelo,” he finally said after several seconds of contemplation.

It was hard not to smile. “Okay. I’m Will Solace.”

And that was the end of it.

-

That was not the end of it.

The next Wednesday, Will woke up late. He’d stayed up until 3 AM to work on an essay before receiving an e-mail from a classmate that it was actually due next week. (Damn it.) He’d planned to stop by at Starbucks and get his usual fix, along with a second one for Nico (okay, he wanted to talk to the guy again and he was honestly genuinely concerned, so sue him), but there was no time. It was no surprise that he was still bleary when he walked into the class.

But what greeted him was a surprise. A pleasant surprise.

Nico was seated on the seat beside Will’s. For once, he wasn’t half-asleep and practically drooling on the desk. It was the most alert that Will had ever seen him.

“For last week.” He raised a cup of coffee towards Will’s direction. It was not Starbucks; instead, it was labelled Olympus Cafe in fancy brown print.  He must have been eyeing it because Nico then added, “I don’t really go to Starbucks.”

Will grinned before taking the proffered item. “So hipster.”

Nico scowled. “Whatever. I got up early for that so you better enjoy it.”

“Waking up early looks good on you,” Will said, without thinking at all. Promptly, he coughed (rather loudly) and set the coffee on his desktop. His ears were burning. “That sounded weird. I meant that you actually look awake, as opposed to the usual. Don’t give me that look. You know what I mean.” Then he looked at Nico’s desktop and raised an eyebrow at the two cups of coffee on it. “You know, too much caffeine is bad for you.”

He snorted. “You drink it every day.”

“I drink one cup a day. That’s two. Is that why you look really awake? Did you even sleep?”

“That’s none of your business,” he replied before proceeding to gesture at the cup. “Just drink it. It tastes like crap when it’s cold.”

“That’s unhealthy. You should sleep.” Will unscrewed the cap and took a sip. His eyes widened. “Wow, okay. This is good.”

Nico smirked. “You don’t really have much to compare it to. I mean, Starbucks.”

“And he says he’s not a hipster.”

“Shut up.”

-

It became a routine.

Every Wednesday, one of them brought two (or in Nico’s case, three) cups of coffee to the class. They alternated. Sometimes they drank Starbucks coffee, and sometimes they drank Olympus coffee. Nico complained about the former a lot, but he always drank every single drop. (“Does it violate your hipster principles?” Will had said once, and Nico had predictable replied with a halfhearted, “Shut up, Solace.)  Will complained about the amount of caffeine that Nico ingested, and about how Nico didn’t get enough sleep, or eat enough food. That boy was going to be the death of him, and of himself.

“You two,” Lou Ellen said one day, “are the most whiny couple on this planet.”

“We’re not a couple,” Will tossed out, not noticing the way Nico tensed beside him.

“Might as well be.”

“Wha…?” The blonde trailed off.

Lou Ellen smiled and it was broad and knowing. She tugged at Miranda’s arm. “ _Boys._ Let’s ditch these nerds, babe.”

Every Wednesday became something to look forward to.

Within the span of two months, Will slowly began to unravel the mystery that was known as Nico di Angelo.

He found out that Nico had very expressive hands. It was something that he hadn’t expected, but it suited the other boy so well. He would gesture, and he would wave his arms, and open his palms, and move in sync to whatever he was saying, and it was a fascinating and oddly hypnotic thing to watch.

“You know, I’ve noticed something. You use your hands a lot.” Will did an imitation of Nico’s most common hand gestures.

“Is that a bad thing?”

“What? No!” Will flushed upon realizing the strength of his vehemence, but he didn’t allow himself to stop. It wasn’t a bad thing. Hell no. It was adorable. “I mean, I just never expected it. That’s it.”

He reveled in the small, rare smile on Nico’s lips. “Well. I _am_ Italian.”

He found out that Nico was actually a massive nerd. He was especially fond of Mythomagic, which, admittedly, was something that Will had never been addicted to as a child.

“I can’t believe you have never played it.” said Nico.

Will eyed him with amusement. “You’ve said that so many times already that I quit keeping track a long time ago.”

“I still can’t believe it.”

“I don’t mind you talking about it, you know. Even though I don’t get half of what you’re saying most of the time.”

Nico glanced at him. He didn’t say anything.

Will smiled. “I’m serious. I like it.”

He wasn’t sure what he was referring to when he said that he liked it. They never spoke of the topic again.

Nico’s voice sounded different whenever he talked about Mythomagic. It was light and carefree, and at the same time passionate and alive. Will wondered what it would be like to hear Nico speak about him the way he spoke about Mythomagic. Then he promptly slapped himself. What the hell.

He found out that Nico’s dorm room was the antithesis of what his clothing implied it would be. It was well-lit and well-ventilated. The two beds were made and there was a surprising lack of emo band posters on the walls. (Though he knew that secretly, pop songs were Nico’s jams. The boy just hid it well.) It was easy, though, to spot which bed was Nico’s. Its bed sheets were black and peppered with tiny skulls.

“I thought this was going to be the Cave of Doom and Darkness, to be honest. I’m disappointed. Is all this brightness the work of your roommate?”

“No. I take credit. It would be a dumpster if I didn’t live here.” Nico wrinkled his nose. “My roommate likes,” insert air quotes, “organized chaos.”

Will crouched and peeked under the beds. Sure enough, the space under Nico’s was spotless. He couldn’t say the same for the space under the roommate’s bed. It was littered with various mechanical bits, and _wait, is that a hammer?_

“What the hell are you doing?”

“Checking to see if you’ve been hiding damsels in distress underneath your bed. Maybe you keep them in your closet, you scary black dragon. The shining knight has come to save them.” Will wiggled his fingers.

Nico snorted. “Please. I’m no kidnapper. And even if I were, I wouldn’t go for the damsels.”

Will choked.

He found out that there were few things he liked better than Nico’s laugh.

“What?” Nico asked after finally managing to stop the stream of laughter that had been slipping past his lips for the past thirty seconds. “Why are you staring at me like that?”

Will smiled, weakly. “It’s nothing.”

He found out about many things, and he found out that he didn’t want to stop finding out, and it was all just this one big mess and it was confusing him terribly.

-

One day, he knocked on Nico’s dorm room. It was opened by a short, scrawny guy with brown skin and curly dark hair.

The stranger, who, Will assumed, was Nico’s roommate, proceeded to exclaim, “Your boyfriend is here!”

Then suddenly, the boy ducked, narrowly missing a gray, balled-up hoodie. It bounced off Will instead.

“Sorry.” The familiar, grumbling voice belonged to Nico, who was prompt in dragging his roommate back inside, stepping out, and closing the door behind him. He got the hoodie from Will’s hands and proceeded to shrug it on. “I was aiming for him.”

“It’s fine.” To be honest, Will had already placed the incident in the back of his mind. (Well, except perhaps the  _boyfriend_  part. He’d have to ask about that later.) “Well, I don’t want to keep you for too long. I just came here to give you something.”

Try as he may, Nico wasn’t able to wipe all traces of curiosity from his features. “What is it?”

Will was now grinning so hard that it hurt. “Okay. Here.” He reached into his pocket and pulled out two rectangular scraps of paper, one of which he handed to Nico. The latter took it, frowning.

“What is—” He paused and stared at the object for a few moments. It felt like an eternity before he looked up and his lips widened into a full-fledged smile.

Okay. Will’s heart may have skipped a few beats. But anyone’s heart would, really, because Nico di Angelo was cute as hell when he smiled like that. He was also cute as hell when he didn’t smile like that. It was disorienting.

“You—” And there it was, that startling laughter, and it warmed Will’s bones like a fireplace on a chilly winter day. There was a look of rarely seen, boyish exuberance on the other boy’s features—in the curve of his lips, the lines around his eyes. “I can’t believe this. You don’t even like Mythomagic, but you…” He smiled, his gaze flickering downwards towards the floor, before traveling back up again and meeting Will’s eyes, almost shyly. “Thanks, Will.”

Will tried to ignore the way his heart beat at what he was pretty sure was a considerably unhealthy rate. He tried to ignore the way his blood rushed in his ears, or the way his cheeks felt way, way too warm.

“I never said that I don’t like Mythomagic,” he said. “You’re welcome, Nico.”

He could tell that Nico was trying to stop grinning, but it wasn’t working. “So. I’ll see you at the movie theater?”

“No!” Will coughed and discreetly used it as an excuse to cover his face with his hands, if only briefly. “I mean, I’ll meet you here. Like, outside your dorm room.”

“What a gentleman. Sounds like a date.” Nico’s voice was dry and amused at the same time. _Wait, what?_ Will eyes bulged and he almost choked because _what the hell, man_. “Oh, my God. I was kidding. Are you okay? Do you need water?”

He staggered away from the door. Apparently, his gaze was now incapable of going anywhere that was within a foot of Nico di Angelo. Laughter spouted from his lips, but it sounded shrill and forced. “Yeah, yeah, I’m fine! See you Saturday!”

Then he bolted.

-

When Will finally crawled in his bed later that night, he got to thinking.

What a gentleman. Sounds like a date.

Sounds like a date.

_Sounds like a date._

It was futile to try and stop it. He was already wondering about what it would be like to date Nico. To hold hands with Nico. To do couple-y stuff would Nico. Would they be one of those couples who were really enthusiastic about PDA?

He snorted.

Please. _As if._

Then it hit him that he was thinking about dating a person that he considered one of his best friends. He was thinking about dating Nico. And perhaps it would have been a thing easily dismissed, if it weren’t for the fact that _he was wearing a big, stupid grin while doing so_.

Like, he clearly didn’t mind.

Was it possible that maybe...

Just maybe...

He had a crush on Nico di Angelo?

(It was a realization that hit him in the face with the force of a well-aimed sucker punch.)

Will groaned and buried his face in his hands. 

_"Why.”_


End file.
